by Paula Cox
Tiana thought about shouting to Dax; she even looked to where he was. But she stopped herself. It would only put him in the firing line with her, she reckoned, if he chased after Isaiah and tackled him. Jesus. It wasn’t so much that he’d threatened her; it was the word he’d used—we—that filled her with dread. Whom was he working with? Whom was he working for? Powerful people who would stop at nothing to silence her, and Dax as well, if she went through with this.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Dax gave her the thumbs-up as he approached. She nodded back, unable to summon even a fake smile. This inquest had suddenly gone from being an ordeal to an outright nightmare.
The truth is on your side, Dax had told her innocently. It could be that simple.
But it was never that simple, she now knew. The truth carried a high price in a world where everything was for sale. Including lives.
An usher invited them into the room. The first thing she saw was an empty chair at the head of a long, cedar conference desk. There was a microphone standing on the desk.
The truth is on your side.
Tiana slung her purse over the back of the chair and prayed that it was.
***
“Well? How did I do?” she asked Dax, as they stepped outside the building. Her nerves had finally begun to settle. It helped that it was such a warm day; the sunlight acted like a balm as she descended the stone steps, glad to be away from that claustrophobic room.
“You did well. Brief and to the point.”
“That was Porter’s advice.”
“You hesitated over the second name though,” he pointed out. “Like you were having second thoughts about giving it up.”
“Did I really?” Tiana shrugged. “It was a little unnerving in there.”
“Anything I should know?”
“Like what?”
“Like who that guy was you were talking to just before we went in?”
“I don’t know. You…you saw that?”
“Uh-huh. Keep walking.”
“Why?” She tried to look behind her, but Dax cupped the back of her head.
“Because that guy you were talking to…he’s following us. And he’s not alone.”
“Oh crap. What should we do?”
“First tell me who he is.”
Tiana’s heel snagged on one of the steps. Her stomach leapt into her throat, but she somehow managed to keep her balance.
“Take it easy,” he told her. “I’ve got you. But I need to know who he is. Quick.”
“Goddamn it. It’s him. It’s him.”
“Who?”
“Th-the second name! Isaiah Bernal!”
“Doctor Isaiah Bernal?”
“Yes. He was Thad’s best friend for years, and now I’m pretty sure he was his go-to man in the IMMAF.”
Dax gripped her arm a little tighter. It didn’t hurt; it was more…firm, reassuring. “Why didn’t you tell me that last part before?”
“I didn’t put it together until he threatened me just now!”
“Just before we went in?”
“Huh? Yeah, yeah. Just before.” She told him exactly what the good doctor had said.
Dax flashed Bernal and his accomplices a hateful glance, then quickened his pace. “Bastard must have been waiting for his chance. See? I was gone a minute and he still got to you. I’m gonna have to put a stop to this.”
“How?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, at the end of the sidewalk, rather than letting them follow indefinitely, he turned to face them, shielding Tiana behind him. Isaiah and his two accomplices slowed their walk on cue and strolled up to Dax.
“Can I help you?” Dax asked.
They stopped several feet short. Not that she could blame them; Dax wasn’t exactly someone even three of them would want to tangle with.
“I want a word with Tiana,” Isaiah said, glaring at her. He took his glasses off to sharpen the effect.
“What about?” Dax shot back.
“It’s between me and her.”
“No, I’m between you and her. So either say what you came here to say or fuck off!”
Isaiah Bernal, hardly a weakling himself—he’d fought amateur MMA to help pay his tuition for medical school, which was where he’d met Thad—took half a step forward. It surprised Tiana. She hadn’t expected a confrontation like this, not with Dax Easterling protecting her.
“I thought I made myself clear. I told you not to mention me.”
“Too late, asshole,” Dax replied. “Your name’s in the soup. Better get used to it.”
“No, you’re both in it. Up to your necks. I told you it was a one-off warning. Now you can reap it.”
“Speak plainly, Bernal, before I show you what reap it means.”
Isaiah scoffed at him. “Please. What are you gonna do? Take on three of us? Don’t waste my time, Easterling.”
“Threaten Tiana one more time and you’ll find out.”
The charged air reminded her of being ringside before a big fight. She could almost taste the testosterone. But, as sexy as Dax was when he was like this, she didn’t like where it was going. She took a step back. “It’s okay,” she told him. “He’s said his piece. I chose to ignore him. It’s all out now anyway. There’s no going back.”
“The inquest has only just started,” Dax reminded her over his shoulder, without losing eye contact with his opponents. “All you gave them was a name. That’s not enough to hang him. He can still squirm out of this a hundred different ways. Believe me, his threats are real.”
“I know. But I don’t want you to—”
Dax cut her off, shouting to Isaiah, “Are we done?”
“Not even close.” The doctor took two steps forward. His men, who were at least as big as he was, followed suit. “I warned you what would happen, Tiana, and you betrayed me, just like you betrayed Thad.”
“He was crazier than a shithouse rat,” she retorted. “You helped make that happen.”
“No. You drove him to it. He told me everything. He told me you were a chain around his neck, dragging him back the whole time. He wanted to soar, Tiana, and you made sure his wings were clipped. I know all about it.”
“Lies! Fucking lies!”
“That right there is guilt speaking. You made his life unbearable, and you know it.”
The bitter sadness welling up inside her almost got the better of her fury. Almost. She’d racked her conscience over Thad and had tried to blame herself a dozen different ways, but none of it had stuck. Dax was right. Cassie was right. Her therapist was right. She was blameless, and anyone who said otherwise was playing an angle. In this sick bastard’s case, he was trying to goad her, to prey on her, to make her do or say something irrational that would tip the situation out of Dax’s control.
“Tell all the lies you want, Bernal,” she said. “You’re the one who’s going down. We’ll make sure of that, you evil prick.”
“Fucking bitch!”
No sooner had Isaiah lunged for her than Dax caught him and hurled him sidewise off his feet. Tiana leapt back out of the way as the other two men rushed Dax. Jesus, why hadn’t she brought her Taser with her?
Because they’d never have let me in the freaking building, she remembered.
Incensed, she dragged the nearest guy off Dax, yanking at his long, curly hair and spitting in his face. She went to scratch his eyes. Missed. Sliced his cheek with her nails instead. He backhanded her, knocking her into the gutter.
It stung like hell. She lay there, shaking.
Meanwhile, Dax had knocked out the third man, who lay sprawled across a hedge. He was now busy tangling with Isaiah. No prizes for guessing who had the upper hand in that match-up. But when the second man jumped in after flooring Tiana, the outcome was suddenly not so easy to call.
“Help!” she screamed. People stopped to watch from both sidewalks. A few started dialing on their cell phones. Then she remembered they were less than a block away from the courthouse! Surely the police wou
ld be sprinting this way right now.
Dax flung Curly Hair off his back and planted a size twelve on his jaw. The man scrabbled away across the asphalt, nursing his face. Then Isaiah Bernal got what was coming to him: a vicious uppercut that knocked him spinning into the road. Blood poured from his nose and mouth. He stumbled across the road and into the field on the other side. Curly Hair joined him, bleeding from a more serious injury but still able to quick-walk across the grass.
To his credit, Dax didn’t chase after them. He’d done what he needed to and the fight was over. Instead, he picked Tiana up and, seeing how much she was shaking, carried her in his arms, all the way to his car.
Over three blocks away.
Chapter Twenty Two
“You sure you’re not hurt?” Dax inspected the bruise over her cheekbone, where the thug’s backhand had struck hardest. The drive home hadn’t taken long, but the bruise was already a reddish purple.
“I’m good,” she replied, checking his cuts and bruises. She’d been knocked down once, but he’d taken hits from three separate guys. The gash over his eye had stopped leaking blood, but the wound looked angry. “You need to get that sorted as soon as possible,” she told him. “Get it stitched up.”
He fingered the cut as though he hadn’t realized it was there. “I’ll go later. I’m not leaving you alone.”
“I can go to Cassie’s.”
“Then I’ll drop you off on the way. After…” He heaved a tired sigh and flopped down beside her on the sofa. “After I’ve recharged a bit. Jesus.”
“Aw, come here.” Tiana pulled him into her arms, kissed his forehead (probably the only spot on his head that didn’t hurt after the pounding he’d taken), then laid his head on her lap. “You can’t keep on doing that, you know,” she told him. “I don’t want you to end up punch-drunk as well. How about you use the Taser next time?”
“I was thinking the Uzi.”
“That’d work.” Though she couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not. “You think it might come to that?”
“That’s up to them,” he replied. “But I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, believe me.”
That was worth another kiss right there. His sore, busted lip kinda spoiled the moment for him, but Tiana held the kiss greedily. Not many women had a guy like Dax Easterling going to bat for them—hell, there was no one like him—and the scent of battle was still on him, that super-charged male vibe that soaked into her feminine craving, straight to her sex. The heat of the moment had not dissipated, not for her. She still imagined him fighting them off like some gladiator in the arena, protecting her to the death. And it made her wild.
Tiana gently slid out from under him. He looked bemused as she began to unfasten his shirt buttons, then parted his shirt and explored his hot, hard muscles with her palms and her tongue. Then she went lower, unzipping his fly. His erection tenting his boxers only made her hungrier. While she massaged his cock through the fabric, with one hand on his stomach, Dax lay back, splaying himself across the sofa, his abdominals tensing fully under every heavy breath. He’d earned this, she thought, and now it was her turn to show him that she was more than just a damsel in distress. That she belonged in the arena as well when her blood was up.
Tiana liked that he held back and let her take charge. Thad had never done that. He could never have let himself be dominated by a woman, end of story. But Dax was so much more secure in himself, in his sexuality. And he was game when it came to exploring the different frissons of lovemaking. Right now, her role was to pleasure him into sex, then heat things up as much as she could. But if he thought he could lie back passively and save his best for some blaze of glory finale, that he was going to burn her out this time, then he had another thing coming.
The way she was feeling right now, no man could burn her out in bed.
She pulled his shirt off altogether. His pectorals and shoulder muscles were harder and more defined than ever. Bruised, too, though it was tough to tell how much among all the crazy, exotic tattoos. Tracing those dark swirling shapes with her lips made her wetter than ever between her legs. He tried to sit up, but with one hand on his chest she pinned him down; with her other she reached inside his boxers and grasped the shaft of his large, throbbing cock. When she stroked it, trying to gauge its full height, Dax’s member popped out into the open and she licked her lips.
She plied him with more kisses on his mouth. Slower, growing steadily with passion. He was still content to let her have her way, his hands holding her by the hips the only sign that he hadn’t completely submitted. Maybe he was too tired. Maybe this was her show after all, which had its own possibilities, even if it was a slight disappointment. If that was the case, she’d best move this along and undress herself, so she could take her sweet time with him.
When she moved to get off him, Dax strengthened his grip on her waist. She found she couldn’t budge.
“Hey, I just need to—”
He interrupted her gentle words with a grunt. Their gazes locked. Before she knew it, Tiana was on the sofa underneath him, his wild takedown move treating her to a thrilling afterglow.
“Allow me,” he said, and he flipped her over onto her stomach. She let out a giddy squeal of delight. The flutter in her tummy spread to a wicked craving for the unexpected—what might he do next? How good was it going to feel?
The answers came at her from behind. He yanked her skirt off, then strong-armed her upright to her knees so that her back was couched against his rippling muscles. With one hand he tilted her head back and nipped at her neck, sending shivers through her. His other hand felt inside the front of her panties. His fingertips stroked lower and lower until—ahh—he found her sweet spot. The combination undid her, leaving her at his mercy. He rubbed her clit slowly at first, and she roused with a quiet moan of pleasure. As the tempo increased, waves of involuntary clenching and arching rippled her body in sync with his touch.
But Dax wanted a taste for himself. He laid her flat again, this time on her back, and spread her legs. With a firm hand on her ass, he went down on her. Tiana clawed at the upholstery to anchor herself. She blissed out, and he kept her there. For how long, she couldn’t tell.
The sound of him roughing off his pants gave her a few moments to find her bearings. Tiana’s blood was way up, and she was eager to get Dax up to her speed. She pinned him against the cushion and crouched between his legs. He lay back, mouth open, and had no choice but to close his eyes as she dismantled his defenses with the rhythm of her insatiable jerk-and-suck appetite.
“Aw, fuck,” he groaned. So she didn’t stop.
Tiana knew she had him. But why blow it all on an early flourish when there were many more rounds to go. She worked her way up his body again, enjoying his six-pack and those incredible arms that could destroy her if he wasn’t hers, right here, right now. Their kisses brought them closer than ever, one improvised give-and-take, one tongue lick at a time. Impatient. But also a waiting game, to see who would take the initiative next, and what that would bring.
***
It was a very humid eighty-five degrees, Len announced as she held off her sister at the entrance to the local park. Tiana and Cassie both smiled at her. She was becoming quite the young woman, poised, inquisitive, and bright as a button. Shana loved to monkey around and play up her youngest-and-therefore-here-to-have-fun attitude, but Len was maturing by the day. She was becoming more and more like her mother—a very good thing indeed, Tiana reckoned.
At Tiana’s insistence, Dax was at the hospital getting properly checked out and sewn up. She felt a little guilty now about putting sex before his treatment—the rough stuff had definitely not helped his wounds—but damn it, she just couldn’t resist. Her mouth watered at the memories alone.
He was certain they hadn’t been followed to Cassie’s, so he’d left her there for a few hours. Cassie and the kids had been planning to go to the park anyway, so it was the perfect way to disappear. There was no way Isaiah Bernal
and his goons would find her here. In any case, they’d still be regrouping, licking their own wounds.
“You say this Bernal’s a bigwig in the organization?” Cassie was trying to figure out all the angles, as was typical for her. Of course, Tiana wanted her to. When you had a smart cookie of a big sister like Cass in your corner, you wanted to tell her everything.
So Tiana did. Every word. Every gesture. Every last moment of their interaction with Bernal.
“Did he ever strike you as someone who’d have criminal connections?” Cassie asked.